Madam
by pretend-to-care
Summary: Watson must face a chatty Cockney case-bearer alone. Who is this woman? I guarantee a few surprises.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the lurvely movie, Sherlock Holmes (2009, not that I own the other ones either).**

**A/N: Before we begin, a challenge. Use those snazzy skills of observation while reading and see just what you find.**

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The clock chimed noon.

I looked over at Gladstone, who was in turn staring back at me, and sighed. "I don't know what's taking him so long either, pup." The dog whimpered, hungry.

It was a slow day, and Holmes and I had been lounging about Baker Street. I could tell he was becoming increasingly bored—never a good thing with Holmes—and I was just about to suggest we go on a walk when he stood up, stretched, and smiled. "Pardon me for a second, Watson," he had said, "but I am in the mood for some of Nanny's cinnamon biscuits. Allow me to see if she has any. I won't be but a moment!" And with that he had supposedly gone down to the kitchen.

However, that had been fifteen minutes ago, and we had not seen hide nor hair of him since.

I was beginning to worry. As a rule, it is never, ever a good thing when Sherlock Holmes goes missing. I looked at the clock again, then back at Gladstone. "We'll give him five more minutes. Then I'll go find him."

There was a knock on the door.

Curiously I stood and went to answer it, wondering if perhaps Holmes had been expecting company. But when the door opened, it was clear that we had another case, not a pleasant visitor.

"Good afternoon, madam," I said politely to the woman in the doorway.

"You're not Mr. Holmes," she replied in a thick Cockney accent.

"No, I am not. I am, however, his partner, Doctor John Watson. Holmes is…out at the moment, if you would like to sit and wait for him."

"Very well, very well," she said. She scooted past me and took a seat in the sleuth's chair. With a last irritated glance down the hallway for Holmes, I closed the door and reclaimed my seat.

The woman was scratching Gladstone's ears—a remarkable feat, as the dog typically didn't take to anyone but Holmes and I. I took the opportunity to study her further.

The possibility that she was a guest of Holmes' was immediately dispelled. Aside from Miss Adler and Mrs. Hudson, Holmes had no relationship with any woman anywhere in the world. Even his own mother must have been abandoned from the time little Sherlock could crawl. No, this lady was a stranger with a problem.

She had a rather matronly appearance, with a ruddy face and relatively large nose. Attempting to utilize my comrade's methods of observation, I noted that she was wearing an apron, one corner of which blackened by ash from a stove. In addition to that, the hem of her dress was splotched white with flour. Her hands were worn from years of cooking and cleaning.

"So you're a doctor, eh?" she asked.

I nodded. "Served in the military but a few years ago."

"Military doctor, I see, I see. Quite a respectable man, yes?"

"Yes, I should like to think so," I said with a bit of a smile.

"Any plans for settling down? A wife? A family?"

"Very soon, actually," I replied proudly.

She clapped once. "Engaged, are we? Good, good! You'll be continuing your work here?"

"No," I said regretfully. "I'll be moving a few blocks away. Cavendish Place. I hope to open my own practice there."

"No more cases?" she said.

I shook my head.

"Humph." The woman gave me a disapproving look. "You're leaving behind a good life, doctor, a good life. And Mr. Holmes, what'll become of him, eh?"

"I'm sure he'll manage," I said curtly.

"How sure are you?"

"Very sure!"

"I see."

I got the feeling she did not see at all. "I don't…wish to leave Holmes. He's my best friend. But I…I feel I must move on with my life. One cannot be a bachelor forever. Well…Holmes might be able to manage it, but not I."

"Pardon me, doctor, but you seem to be acting quite selfishly, quite selfishly indeed," the woman said. "Why must you go leaving? Why move to this Cavendish Place, why not keep house here?"

"Because next door to a madman is no place to raise a family!" I exclaimed.

"A madman, eh?"

"Yes, a madman! He…he shoots holes in the walls! He's a hopeless drunk and a cocaine addict! He finds no problem with experimenting on the dog, can you imagine what he would do to children?! And the infernal violin performances at three in the morning! No, no sane man would place a family in such a habitat."

"And what of the times he's saved your life, doctor, what of those? You don't feel you owe him for such heroic deeds?" she asked slyly.

"Well yes, of course, but most of the time it was he who put me in harm's way!"

"Blindly?"

"Pardon me?"

"Did he thrust you blindly into danger, or did you choose to accompany him?"

"I would accompany him anywhere, I'm simply saying…." I paused, realizing just what she was saying. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"Dear me, doctor, you know my name." The woman stood up and shed her bonnet. I watched in confusion, then fascination, then awe as layer by layer, the talkative Cockney woman disappeared and Holmes emerged from beneath the heaps of ruffles.

"Holmes, what…what the devil are you doing?" I exclaimed, halfway between amusement and infuriation.

"Marveling at the ability of the female kind to withstand such unbearable heat under all this clothing," he grumbled. "For the love of the Queen, no wonder Irene insists on dressing like a man so often."

Finally the last petticoat came off and Sherlock Holmes was left standing there in nothing but his breeches and suspenders. He smiled at me. "Don't look so surprised, Watson. I gave you plenty of clues. Now where is my pipe?"

"With all due respect, Holmes…what clues?"

He chuckled from the fireplace, where he was rummaging through the collection of junk on the mantle. "Ones that slipped right past you, evidently."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Would you be so kind as to explain?"

"Of course, my dear doctor, of course. Aha!" He found his pipe and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the stem rather than lighting it. "I apologize for disappearing for so long. It took quite a bit of convincing to get Nanny to let me use her shoes. That's as good a place as any to start, the shoes. You should have recognized them. In addition, my extra…ah…pudge was a little too malleable, especially when I sat down."

"Holmes," I said indignantly, "I would never notice that about a woman!"

"Well you should get into the habit. Beyond my appearance, I was far too calm for one with a problem worthy of the abilities of Sherlock Holmes."

"I noticed that," I protested. "I just…thought…it was something other than a life-or-death situation."

"You thought wrong," Holmes replied. "However, excellent work of twisting a theory to fit the shape of the facts. In this you did well. My next clue, arguably the most obvious, was Gladstone."

"The dog took to you," I groaned.

"Like flies to honey."

"Because he already knew you."

"Indeed. In hindsight, Watson, you're quite good at this. Lastly, you should have realized that I knew much too much about Holmes and what he—I—does. Do. What I do. What he does. Oh never mind. You know what I mean."

"I must admit, Holmes…I was rather ignorant."

"Agreed," he said with a bit of a smirk. "You quite failed that little test."

"But in my defense, I was not expecting you to make an appearance as a woman. An old, rather large one to boot."

He narrowed his eyes. "Watson, I'll have you know, I could have come to you as a striking young woman. However, it would have been more work than I had time for."

"Much more work," I chuckled.

"You, on the other hand, could pass quite easily as a pretty young maid," he said smugly.

My smile dropped. "Holmes."

"You would, of course, need to shave your moustache."

"Never!"

"And lose a few pounds."

"You would have to lose a few more!"

"But other than that…." He held up his hands, framing me with his thumbs and forefingers. "Ah, quite a picture. A fine catch for any young gentleman."

I threw his bonnet at him.

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**Elementary, my dear readers? How many of you guessed who the woman was before the grand unbonneting? Review and tell me! **

**(See what I did there? Little incentive to put a message in my inbox! *wink*)**


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